


Dinner Reservations

by babbitly



Category: Free!
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, sousuke is actually a hormone riddled nerd, this is straight porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2659874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babbitly/pseuds/babbitly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke Yamazaki lives a troubled life because his boyfriend likes to wear towels around the house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner Reservations

**Author's Note:**

> look y'all i soumako'd

“Sousukeee,” comes Makoto’s voice from down the hall, “I can’t get this stupid thing to open.”  

“Did you pinch the clasps on the handle?” Sousuke calls back, rubbing his towel over his face and through his hair, his skin still wet from his shower.

“Ughhhhh,” Makoto groans, and Sousuke laughs a little as he grabs his sweatpants from the bed and pulls them on, he walks to the dresser next to their open door and pulls open the top drawer looking for his white t-shir- 

“Sousuke I can’t do it!” Makoto yells, and Sousuke hears something banging around in the kitchen from down the hall. “I need to dry this shirt before we leave and it’s not- urrgh working!”

 Sousuke closes his eyes, cursing himself for not showing Makoto how to do this yesterday when the maintenance guy had come over, and throws the towel that’s hanging around his shoulders onto the floor; he’ll get it later. He walks down the hall and as he gets closer to the kitchen he can hear Makoto’s small huffs of frustration. Sousuke snorts out a laugh and walks through the living room into the kitchen, mumbling, “It’s just a damn door, Makoto I mean how hard can this honestl-“

_Fuck_.

Makoto’s standing wedged between the kitchen table and the small closet that houses their washer and dryer in the corner of the kitchen. His hair’s a mess, like he’s run his finger through it, but that’s not even remotely important because he’s also currently only wearing a white towel that’s draped low around his hips, one hand holding it together while the other pulls on the door of the dryer.

Sousuke’s certain his jaw is halfway to the floor, his brain not circuiting correctly at the image. He can just see the top of Makoto’s ass, the curve just beginning, his back dimples prominent and, _fuck_ Sousuke wants to run his hands over them and feel the indents on his warm skin beneath his fingers, maybe even beneath his tongue. The muscles of Makoto’s back flex as he grunts hard, pulling backwards on the white machine as he struggles.

Sousuke closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again.

Shit. He’s twenty-six years old and he’s getting a boner just looking at his boyfriend’s back muscles.

He hears Makoto mumble something as he jerks backward, the door still refusing to open.

“Okay!” Sousuke barks, surprising himself a little at the volume of his voice, he sees Makoto jolt slightly, a squeak of fear escaping form his mouth as he whips around, wide eyed, eyebrows raised, to look at Sousuke with both hands flying upwards to cover his heart.

“Why would you do that?” Makoto yells, his face going red, and his chest heaving, he looks like a scared kitten, “you almost gave me a heart attack.”

Sousuke smiles a little, not failing to notice that the towel Makoto had previously been wearing now crumpled to the floor of their kitchen. He let’s his eyes trail down the planes of Makoto’s toned chest, his defined abdomen, the cut of his hip bones down to his thick thighs and back up to his face. His eye are still wide and full of anxiety and Sousuke should probably feel a little bad creeping up on him, knowing how jumpy his boyfriend can be, but he can’t really find it in himself to care now that he’s here in front of him without a single article of clothing.

“Sorry,” Sousuke says, eyes flicking behind him to the wide open window in their kitchen, before he takes a step forward closing the gap between them and sliding one hand around Makoto’s waist, and the other behind him to splay over his lower back, feeling a dimple beneath his finger. Sousuke presses his mouth to Makoto’s ear, smells that familiar scent of his shampoo in his hair, as Makoto sucks in a breath from the sudden contact. “You know, Makoto, our new neighbors probably don’t appreciate seeing you walk around the kitchen naked as much as I do.”

“Wahhhh!” Makoto squeals, squirming around in Sousuke’s embrace and pushing against areas of Sousuke in a manner that has heat zipping through his abdomen at the touch. Sousuke tightens his grip on Makoto, stopping his movements and breathing heavy into his ear.

“You’re so beautiful, Makoto,” Sousuke says, kissing down the line of his neck and letting his fingers trail down lower on his hips, “You’d give all our neighbors a real show if they saw you in here.”

“That’s so embarrassing,” Makoto whines, tilting his neck to the side to give Sousuke more access. Sousuke grins into the warm skin of his neck and bites. Not hard, but enough to make Makoto suck in a breath at the motion.

Sousuke slides his hand across Makoto’s abdomen, sliding lower until he feels Makoto’s dick, already half hard from just this, and wraps his hand around him. He mouths Makoto’s neck, licking back up his neck to press his lips behind his ear, as Makoto turns his head to the side to face him and presses their mouth together.

Makoto pushes hard against Sousuke’s lips, sliding his tongue between them and pressing forward into Sousuke’s mouth. Sousuke breaths out, feeling Makoto grow beneath his fingers, as he feels Makoto suck on his tongue pulling them together. Sousuke takes a step forward, feeling as Makoto’s thighs press into the edge of their newly purchased kitchen table, and presses harder against him. Makoto sighs into his mouth as Sousuke rolls his hips against his ass, pressing his erection against him as Makoto reaches up and grips a handful of his short hair. He pulls Sousuke’s hair slightly separating their mouths, but pressing into Sousuke’s hand on his dick.

 “Sousuke we’re going to be late to that-ah- dinner we can’t-ah-” Makoto fumbles out, his breaths harsh between his words.

Sousuke moves his mouth up to his ear, digs his fingers into his hair, and bends Makoto’s body forward, pressing his chest against the table, as Sousuke leans over him, almost lying against his back.

“Who cares?” Sousuke says, rolling his hips forward into Makoto’s bare ass, his hand never leaving his dick.

“Ah- okay, they can wait. ”Makoto says, voice breathy as he presses forward into Sousuke’s palm.

Sousuke trails his fingers from the thick of Makoto’s hair, down the smooth skin of his back, watching as Makoto’s chest heaves against the wood of the kitchen table. He ghosts his fingers lower, noticing the chill bumps that bloom across Makoto’s skin before he grips a handful of the firm skin of his ass.

“Gah! Sousuke!” Makoto yelps, letting out a shocked whine “Not here, we eat here!”

“I’m about to eat here.” Sousuke says, before he bites lightly at the top of Makoto’s ass, licking across his dimples as his other hand presses upward against Makoto’s erection with the palm of his hand. He feels Makoto suck in a sharp breath beneath him and smiles into the skin of his lower back. He kisses across the top his ass and stops, pulling back and standing up.

Makoto turns around, his erection heavy between his legs, and pulls Sousuke forward by his waist, crushing their lips together and sliding his tongue into Sousuke’s mouth. Sousuke breaths between them, sucking on Makoto’s tongue and Makoto rolls his hips forward, pressing his erection into Sousuke’s hip, hissing when he does.

“Do you want me to close the blinds?”

“No,” Makoto says loudly, kissing a line down Sousuke’s throat, “-just don’t stop.”

A jolt of excitement races straight to Sousuke’s dick at Makoto’s words and he slides his fingers into Makoto’s hair, pulling back slightly to press their lips together again. He walks backward, feeling Makoto bump into their kitchen table again, and slides his other hand down Makoto’s waist, over his ass, and down to his thigh, gripping it before hitching it up onto the table so he can sit. Makoto gets the hint and slides back, putting all of his weight on the table.

 Sousuke grips his hips and pushes him backwards on the table, and trails his mouth away from his lips. He kisses down his neck, runs his tongue across one of his nipples, biting lightly and eliciting a moan at the motion, and runs his hands, followed by his mouth down the planes of Makoto’s defined abdomen, licking across the definition of his hipbone. He can hear Makoto’s breathing from above him, so when he licks across the tip of Makoto’s dick he hears him suck in a sharp breath. And then hears him whine again when he kisses lower down his hips and down to his inner thighs, biting hard at the skin there.

“Sou-ah!” Makoto moans, as he writhes on their table- _their table_. Sousuke slides his hands to Makoto’s thighs and pushes them up and out, one lying over his good shoulder. Makoto’s skin is warm against his bare skin, and so fucking welcome.

Sousuke presses his mouth to the base of Makoto’s dick and sucks at the skin there, before moving down lower, licking and kissing farther down to slide his tongue across his entrance.

Makoto pants, and Sousuke feels his hand twine through his hair as he presses into him, and wraps his hand around Makoto’s dick, sliding down his shaft in time with the movements of his mouth. He feels Makoto pressing his body down, the muscles of his thigh flexing with pleasure. Sousuke moves his mouth upwards, back to Makoto’s dick and licks at the underside of his cock before taking him into his mouth.

He loves hearing Makoto’s reactions. Loves watching him fall apart by his doing. And he wants to keep being the one that does this to him for the rest of his life.

Sousuke slides his mouth around Makoto, hollowing his cheeks as he moves, and moves his hand down, pressing against his entrance with a finger. He flicks his tongue against Makoto’s heat and presses into him hearing Makoto’s gasps at the movement. He bobs his head in times with his fingers, Makoto’s sounds of pleasure sending heat directly to his dick. Sousuke slides his other hand up over Makoto’s abdomen, fingers tracing through that fine line of hair before curling them in and scratching lightly at his smooth skin.

“Sousu-ah-shit,” Makoto cries, rolling his hips forward, thrusting deeper into Sousuke’s mouth. Sousuke slides up and off Makoto, and kisses down to his entrance again before joining his tongue with his finger’s movements and pushing into him.

He feels Makoto’s hand tighten into his hair, the sting not unwelcome, as he grinds down pressing Sousuke into him farther. Sousuke curls his finger inside him, pulling back slowly and adding another finger before spreading him slightly and pressing his tongue in farther against his warmth.

“Sousuke- I’m so- oh god,” Makoto hums, rolling his hips down as Sousuke curls his fingers inside him and pulls his head up, watching Makoto fuck himself on his fingers.

“Makoto what if our neighbors walk by right now? Sousuke says, straightening his posture so he’s able to see Makoto’s face as he pushes into him deeper. Makoto’s eyes snap open, his pupils going wide for a minute before Sousuke swipes his thumb over his slit, and spreads it down his length, pumping him in a loose hold. Makoto arches his back off the table snapping his eyes shut as he scrabbles for Sousuke’s forearm and holds tight. “What if they can hear you calling out my name through the walls?”

Sousuke stops moving his finger within Makoto, as Makoto whines, gripping harder at Sousuke’s forearm as the muscles of his stomach tighten. He slams his open palm against the table, the sound reverberating around the room

“Please,” Makoto whines, rocking his hips forward again, begging for more.

“Do you like knowing that?” Sousuke hisses, leaning over Makoto’s chest and kissing in the center, “Do you like knowing that someone can hear you when I’m making you come?”

“Sousuke, please,” Makoto breathes out, arching his back on the table again, his chest heaving.

Sousuke drops himself back down to Makoto’s dick and takes him into his mouth, wrapping his hand around the base and pumping with the bibbing of his mouth, He sucks hard, swirling his tongue around the head as he presses deeper into Makoto with his rhythm.

“I’m-so clo-ahh,” Makoto says, as Sousuke feels the muscles of his thigh tense, watches his body stiffen up, as his breath catches in his throat on his exhale, coming out in sharp huffs as he releases into Sousuke’s mouth. Sousuke takes him all, feeling him tense around his fingers as he rolls his hips, pushing into Sousuke’s mouth as he comes. Sousuke sucks hard, swallowing him down and stroking him through his orgasm.

Makoto finally stills, his body untightening, his back coming back down on to the table. Sousuke swirls his tongue around his head one last time and pulls off of him, moving both his hands up to rub up Makoto’s abdomen as he slides up to press his mouth against Makoto’s. He kisses him, biting at his bottom lip and sucking until he feels Makoto’s hands trail up his back and slide into his hair, pulling him up to meet his mouth. Makoto kisses him, once, twice, three times before tugging his hair slightly and pulling him back.

“We defiled our brand new table,” he says as Sousuke smiles, looking at Makoto’s flushed cheeks and heavy eyes.

“Well it was gonna happen eventually,” He responds, kissing the side of Makoto’s mouth before pushing himself up and off the table, “at least we got it out of the way.”

Makoto laughs and snakes his hand out to swat at Sousuke’s side, just barely grazing him with his fingers before Sousuke turns away. He moves around the table, trailing his fingers across Makoto’s abdomen one more time, and stands in front of the washing machine. He pinches the latches on the top and bottom of the handle and pulls. The door pops open with ease and Sousuke smiles, into the empty dryer bin.  He turns around, stares down at Makoto, cheeks red, eyes bright, and a little dazed out, and leans over the table to press his mouth against his lips again.

“Okay now you can use the dryer,” he says, backing towards the door of the kitchen, Makoto staring at his face first before his eyes travel down Sousuke’s body to his obvious erection,   “but hurry up, we’re gonna be late and now we have other things we need to take care of.”

Makoto smiles as Sousuke turns away from him to head back to the bedroom.

Maybe they could just reschedule their reservations for another night.


End file.
